Smooth Move, Romeo
by Faba
Summary: The whole gang gets drunk. What happens when Elphaba wakes up the next morning and . . . something's . . . different? Musicalverse. Chapterfic. What pairing? It will become clear after the first chapter, duckies
1. The Smart Beginning

Title: Smooth Move, Romeo - The Smart Beginning

Summary: The whole gang gets drunk. What happens when Elphaba wakes up the next morning and . . . something's . . . different?

Disclaimer: What's up with these disclaimers! I'll sprout wings the day that I tell you, "I'm really the author in disguise, writing for my own blasted story, so don't critisize me for plagiarism." Yeah, fat chance. I disclaim _Wicked _and the certain movie I got my idea from: _What Happens in Vegas_.

Author's Note: So, this is going to be my attempted humorous fic. I would dearly appreciate reviews, but I'm not going to gripe if I don't get much anymore. :( It's not very nice. So . . . I won't. I'll just ask, and pray, and hope. That's all I can do, anyway, unless I come barging into your house and hold a gun to your head, shouting some crap like, "Review, you nutter!" BUT I WOULDN'T DO THAT. So all I can do these days is ask sweetly.

So PLEASE read, and PLEASE review, but whether or not I get a bundle is not going to affect how often I update.

Enjoy!

-Faba

* * *

Elphaba awoke very tired. Unbelievably tired, as if she'd spent the whole night partying. With a frown upon her face, she pulled a bottle out from under the covers.

_Shit_, she thought, Was_ I partying all night? _

Then, she felt herself flush. Where was her nightdress?

She jumped up, her head spinning, and quickly grabbed the blanket from her bed. She drew the curtains closed fiercely, causing them to snap audibly, and then hurriedly changed into a white blouse and black skirts, and then put her hair up in a customary braid.

Almost forgetting her glasses, she slipped them on, and went to awaken Galinda, whom (to Elphaba's horror) was also sleeping in the nude. When the blonde awoke, she drew the covers up around her chin and said, "What, Elphie?"

"Galinda, do you sense something . . . odd? I-I mean, I went to sleep last night . . . _naked_, and you have, too, you see? I feel sick, and sore, and, frankly, I can't remember a single thing from last night—"

"Oh, you don't remember?" Galinda said airily, "Well, it's not surprise, really. 'I don't drink,' you said. . . . You're not used to it. . . ."

"Oh, Oz," said Elphaba, sounding strangled.

"Yes, we had a few drinks, Elphaba, calm down."

"But that doesn't explain why I was _naked_, Galinda. _What else_?"

Galinda sighed, getting up and taking her covers with her. Elphaba politely turned away.

"Okay, so how do I explain this? But I'm afraid that, subconsciously, you'll already know. That you're just asking me for a confirmation," Galinda mused, somewhere behind Elphaba. "So maybe if you'd just think really hard, you can guess _exactly_ what happened last night, which would explain why you were naked in bed this morning."

"Galinda, _talk_," said Elphaba calmly.

"Okay, okay . . . just wait," there was some ruffling, and then Galinda said, "So, last night we all decided to go to the Emerald City for a night away from this hectic dump. Remember?"

Elphaba nodded slowly. She did remember that.

"So . . . Boq, Fiyero, Crope, Tibbett, Avaric, you, and I came. Alright? We all had a drink at a local bar, after some hesitation from you, and then another, and another, and another, and another . . . Until. . . ." Galinda wavered, and she said, "Okay, you can turn around now." Elphaba did so, and Galinda's eyes flickered downward uncertainly, and she sat down on her messy bed, the covers lying forgotten on the oak floor. "_Until_—I, disturbingly, had some sort of desperate _thing_ with Boq—_Oz knows why_—Tibbett and Crope were . . . getting intimate, Avaric was messing with some random girl, and Fiyero . . . had you pinned beneath him."

Elphaba almost fell over, but caught herself in time, stumbling over and sitting beside Galinda.

"And you can guess what happened next," Galinda said darkly.

"We had sex with them?" Elphaba squeaked.

Galinda looked scared for a split second, and then nodded slowly. "Yes. . . . And—"

"What?" Elphaba demanded.

"Nothing," she said quickly.

Elphaba sighed, and took a deep breath. "Well, that's not as horrible as it could be," she told the other girl hesitantly. "I mean, I'm an adult. I'm fine. It can be forgotten, right?" Elphaba got off Galinda's bed, and flipped her braid over her shoulder nervously. "Surely we're fine. Even though I am a little surprised as to how we snuck two men into our dorm whilst drunk, I'm sure everything is dandy . . . correct?"

Galinda cleared her throat softly and nodded.

"Okay," said Elphaba. "Let us just . . . go down to breakfast like always and pretend as though we haven't _done _anything wrong."

"Elphie," Galinda murmured, "You're blowing this out of proportion. I can tell you're quite ready to pop."

"I'm not," said Elphaba stiffly. "I've told you—I'm fine. Let's go eat."

Elphaba walked from the dorm, but Galinda called, "Elphie, I haven't even done my hair!" Elphaba was already gone, though, so Galinda sighed, ran a brush through her limp, blonde curls, and chased after Elphaba.

"Elphaba!" she called and her roommate stopped graciously to let her catch up. When she was in better earshot, Galinda whispered, "Like you said, Elphie, there's nothing wrong with losing your virginity at this age—you're an adult!"

"But I would have liked it to happen sober, when I had a choice," Elphaba grumbled.

Galinda rolled her eyes.

They were silent for the rest of the walk to breakfast. But when they started to make their way to their usual table, Elphaba suddenly blanched and quickly mumbled, "Look, I really don't feel hungry anymore, so I think I'll just—"

"Elphaba!" Galinda said exasperatedly. "What happened to 'let's pretend that we haven't done anything wrong'? We're going to go eat breakfast with the guys. We're not going to mention anything. . . . I mean, I had sex with Boq, how do you think that makes me feel?"

"But I had sex with your _boyfriend_, aren't you . . . mad at me?"

Galinda sighed sadly. "That really doesn't matter anymore, Elphaba."

"What, have you broken up?" Elphaba gasped, as they started making their way over to the table slowly. "Because of me? No, Galinda, you shouldn't have—!"

"We didn't break up," Galinda snapped. "Well—oh, but it's complicated. You'll find out in a little bit, I promise."

Elphaba was about to retort, but they had now reached the door, so she decided it could wait.

Fiyero was smiling, however vaguely, and Boq looked positively mortified. When the girls sat down, Elphaba took care to avert her eyes from Fiyero and particular, instead nodding at Boq, who replied, "Hello," in a rather wispy voice.

Galinda was beaming, but also, Elphaba noticed, not making eye contact with Boq, whose blush was tomato red. "Sooo," she said cheerily. "How is everyone?"

"Lovely," Fiyero said, sounding very wistful.

"Fine," Elphaba herself grunted, and Boq merely blushed brighter.

For a few moments, there was mere small talk, no one quite ready to talk about what had happened the night before. Galinda was overly cheerful, Fiyero was content with eating a muffin, Boq was messing half-heartedly with his scruffy hair, and Elphaba was fighting to control herself. It proved too much for her to handle eventually. She desperately wanted to scratch an itch on her finger, but didn't.

Elphaba sighed loudly. "Okay, I can't take this anymore," she muttered. She finally made eye contact with Fiyero, and he held her gaze. "Listen, Fiyero, to clear the air I must say that whatever . . . _happened_ last night (because I really can't remember) I wish to assure you that I didn't mean any of it, and that we can all go back to the way things were as if nothing happened."

Fiyero's breath caught, and, suddenly, he went as pale as Boq was red. His normally golden skin milky, he cleared his throat, as if asking for backup from Galinda and Boq.

Boq had a convenient coughing fit, so Galinda said, "You really can't remember, can you?"

Elphaba's eyes narrowed.

"Elphie," Galinda said. "You know how you were saying something felt odd this morning? Well, just think about . . . _think_ about it for a moment." Galinda's eyes flickered downward, and Elphaba recognized it as something that she had done earlier, too. Elphaba rapidly assessed her personal feelings, her mood, how cold her hands were. . . .

For a moment, she thought she realized what felt different. But it couldn't be _that_, surely?

Elphaba took a deep breath and moved her right hand. In the corner of her eye, she noticed a flicker of light dance across Galinda's forehead. She thought she was going to be sick, and lifted her hand tenderly to her face.

It was what she had thought, and yet what she hadn't wanted to think. Fitting thin around her fourth finger were a few strands of golden wire, all intertwined to fashion a truly beautiful ring. She slipped it off and stared at it in awe for a moment, then set it gingerly on the table. Then, she proceeded to scratch the itch on her finger, as she now knew the cause of it.

"Is this what I think it is?" she asked loudly, fiercely pointing at the ring after a pause.

The three of them nodded.

"So, you see, things can never truly be normal . . . because. . . ." Galinda began.

"Galinda, shut up," said Elphaba. After a moment's hesitation, she added, "Which one of you?" to Boq and Fiyero.

Boq and Fiyero looked at each other a moment, then Fiyero's hand went up slowly. "Me?"

At first, Elphaba looked as though she were about to laugh, smiling dopily. "You?" she asked sweetly.

Fiyero nodded, scared, and had a good reason to be. For then only a moment later, Elphaba let out a truly piercing shriek, and everyone in the room turned to look at her.

Fiyero smiled, and then hastily slid beneath the table.


	2. The Stupid Minister

Title: Smooth Move, Romeo - The Stupid Minister

Summary: The whole gang gets drunk. What happens when Elphaba wakes up the next morning and . . . something's . . . different?

Disclaimer: What's up with these disclaimers! I'll sprout wings the day that I tell you, "I'm really the author in disguise, writing for my own blasted story, so don't critisize me for plagiarism." Yeah, fat chance. I disclaim _Wicked _and the certain movie I got my idea from: _What Happens in Vegas_.

Author's Note: Oh la la, very nice. I'm happy. I'm a writing maniac. I like my chappie. Written in Fiyero POV, first person.

Last night there was a funny noise outside. Nights are meant to be calming, but that rumbly sound in the distance wasn't helping me find my calm. And then, suddenly, I was feeling uncomfortable. All from a rumbly noise. Nutty, right? It's funny how the dark does that.

Happy reading! Keep reviewing, please! They're very pretty!

-Faba

* * *

Okay, now I knew Elphaba wasn't dealing with this very well, but wasn't this blowing it a little out of proportion? And, _no_, I didn't appreciate being dragged around, thank you very much, Miss Elphie.

"Fiyero, can you please keep up?" Elphaba snapped. So uptight, so stiff, _soooooooooo_ different from last night.

"I would have better control of my feet if you'd . . . let go, Elphaba," I tried to explain, but I don't think that she heard. She sort of tugged harder, and I tripped over the toe of my boots.

Suddenly, when I least expected it, she finally decided to let go of my sleeve, and I fell. Face-first. Yes, it hurt.

"Get up!" she griped. "Where was it, Fiyero?"

"I've told you Elphaba—very close to the bar we were at _before_!" I bellowed back, getting carefully to my feet. My face rather hurt—stinging cheek. I put my hand there and—UGH. Road burn.

"Fiyero, in case you'd forgotten, there are many, _many_ bars in the Emerald City. _Which bar_?" The girl talked to me as if I were a five-year-old—why did I marry her?

"Ummmm, it started with an A. I think. . . ." I screwed up my face in concentration, thinking hard. That sort of hurt, too. But then, it hit me. "Oh yeah! Er, it was called Artislia's Grill & Bar. Yep. That was it."

When we started walking in that direction again, Elphie finally managed to detach her hand from my cuff, and I was able to walk faster.

It was utterly nuts. Almost immediately, after she'd ranted and raged at the three of us, Elphaba had insisted that we go to the Emerald City right away to see if we could . . . _reverse_ it, or something. I'd tried to tell her—people don't break up these days; severe taboo. The people of Oz only ever caved to the thought of divorcing if it was an extremely important reason. Like if Oz itself was at stake, ready to crumble to dust at our feet. Maybe.

But Elphaba was really stubborn. Not just plain old stubborn, but basically stone stubborn. A hard-core woman, she is. _Even _after I'd tried to explain how bad that would make me look in my parents' eyes, she still insisted on going. My parents were very forceful when it came to marriages—people stay together. The taboo even lived in the Vinkus. So if we were to even really try to split up, my mother would kill me . . . and I wasn't even joking.

I didn't see the point in going. I really didn't. But it was obvious that Elphaba really wanted this, because she had skipped _classes _for it. So I couldn't argue with her, could I?

After all, mom had always told me that men forever stood by their woman. Mum knew best. She'd always also told me that men knew nothing, but that was a different story.

"Look familiar?" Elphaba called to me, as I'd started to lag behind.

"Yeah," I called back, mainly to please her. Honestly I didn't remember even caring to enjoy the green city the night before, so I couldn't be sure. But I had to make her happy, I mean, I was following mom's rules.

I was a good person.

"There it is!" Elphaba said, finally spotting that faithful bar. She doubled back, grabbed my arm, and hauled me toward it, despite my protests.

Did anyone ever listen to me? No. I tried to tell her that I didn't want to go in (mostly because I specifically remembered dancing on the table), but Elphaba would not listen. Honestly, I was convinced the only person who even tried to take me seriously was Galinda, and she wasn't . . . the brightest crayon in the box, if you get my drift. . . .

Great. So basically I'd been labeled the idiot.

By the time whe'd poked around in the bar for a moment, and then circled the block, Elphaba was mad again. For what reason I couldn't tell. But it seemed the anger was directed at me, as it always was.

Hmm. "There it is!" I said soon enough. It was that old, decrepit Hell-hole. I recognized it now. They place where we didn't have to wait too long. . . .

Elphaba's face lit up. "Took you long enough," she said, but didn't sound mad. She grabbed me again and we were soon warily pushing our way into the door.

I really didn't understand much about what Elphie was blabbering about while she talked to the Minister. I kind of stood on the sidelines, staying quiet—there, but not there, you know?

"The Unnamed God does not look highly upon couples not willing to work things out," said the Minister calmly.

"We're not a couple," Elphaba said quickly.

"That's not how it looked last night," he responded.

Elphaba's eyes rolled, and I found myself rolling my eyes, too. I think we were on the same wavelength, Elphie and I: the Minister was a loser.

"But we didn't even want this!" she retorted loudly. "We were _drunk_—what kind of Minister lets two drunk teens get married in the dead of night?"

"A Minister who likes teaching young people a lesson," he answered, still creepy-calm.

"But he's annoying," she said, pointing to me as if it would make things better.

For some reason, at that moment I selfishly thought . . . for just a moment . . . that maybe it was _I _who should be complaining. After all, Elphie was now married to a hunky prince, and I was married to pea soup. I banished the thought quickly, though. I was still a good person. I wanted it to stay that way.

"Well, you should have thought about that before you married him."

"I was . . ._ incapacitated_!" Elphaba flustered. "I couldn't tell up from down!"

"I know that—you should have thought before becoming a drunken fool," he said coolly.

"So we _can't _get divorced?" Elphaba wailed, tactically using a desperate tone. "Please, I don't want _marriage _right now. I have my whole life ahead of me! I'm only in college!"

"If you two can try to work it out over a three month period, and it still isn't working, then, yes, I will _consider_ it. Try on the shoes before you return them, kids. Oh, and I suggest that you consult an expert—a couples counseling specialist."

Then he left the room, and we were stuck standing in the big room full of benches. I got tired just looking at it.

Then, Elphaba, very slowly, sat on the very front bench and pressed her two flat hands together, her head bowed. "Unnamed God help me," she whispered dramatically.

Oooh, _pleeease_. Was I really that bad?


	3. Only One Effin' Bed

Title: Smooth Move, Romeo - Only One Effin' Bed

Summary: The whole gang gets drunk. What happens when Elphaba wakes up the next morning and . . . something's . . . different?

Disclaimer: I disclaim _Wicked_ and _What Happens in Vegas_! La-di-da-daaa~!

Author's Note: Okay. This should be a good chapter for any of you true Fiyeraba fans, even though it's CLICHE AS CAN BE. But, oh well. . . . Enjoy it, regardless!

This is for Tiggy, who's reaction to this story was amazingly adorable. xD

-Faba

* * *

When Fiyero and Elphaba got back, Elphaba was lost. Completely. Miserable, almost. She went into her dorm room and found Galinda crying. The blonde's excess emotional outbursts really weren't what Elphaba wanted at the moment.

"What is it now, Galinda?" Elphaba sighed. "I'm already married to your boyfriend—what else?"

"I'm being forced to . . . move to another room!" Galinda sobbed. "No more time with my dearest friend—no, I'll be spending it with some _loser_!"

Elphaba was confused. "Galinda, no one's forcing you to move out of the room—"

"Well that's a lie," sniffed Galinda angrily. "I've been told firsthand by the Headmistress that I am no longer living here."

Elphaba blinked a few times. Was she missing something?

"Elphaba, why are you being so slow? It's obvious _why_." Galinda stalked over to the closet and yanked out a white leather suitcase. "Or maybe you're just denying the painfully obvious again."

"Oh no," Elphaba moaned.

"Yes," Galinda said. "Horrible Morrible has told me that I must move to another room, as you will now be rooming in the married couples' dormitory."

Elphaba kicked off her shoes angrily and sat quickly down on her bed. Galinda took Elphaba's silence correctly as an indication of anger.

"How do you think I feel?" said Galinda, now placing each of her shoes carefully inside the case. "I have to room with a complete stranger . . . again."

"You're not going to have enough room in there for all of your shoes," Elphaba retorted icily. "May want to reconsider how you'll travel from one building to the next."

"I have other bags," said Galinda sharply.

"I refuse to be moved," Elphaba growled abruptly. "I will not leave this dorm—married or not."

"Too bad," Galinda muttered sulkily, "Morrible's word is law, apparently. I've already tried begging and pleading—I'm moving in with Madolynne Ditly. She sounds bright, doesn't she?"

Elphaba ignored the hypocritical statement, and hastily pulled back her bed's covers and hid underneath the duvet.

"Ugh, Elphaba, you're hair will be all static-y when you pop out again," said her flaxen-haired roommate as she picked up her purple pumps, and set them on top of some ugly ankle boots her grannie had insisted she bring. "And, you know, _I_ wouldn't mind rooming with Fiyero—why do you?"

Elphaba stuck her head out of the covers, and, true to what Galinda said, her hair was ruffled, and clinging to her face. "Would you like to switch names? I can be a convincing Galinda Upland (of the Upper Uplands, of course), and you, well, you can just stop talking and be me. We'll paint ourselves—green, and white."

"I'm not _white_!" Galinda yelled. "I'm a pleasantly milky-creamy color!" The frown she had been sporting shifted quickly into a rather unpleasant sneer that made her look as though she smelled something particularly foul.

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "Why isn't your new roomie coming to _this_ room?" she wondered out loud, as soon as the thought had occurred to her.

"Oh, please," Galinda sighed, "This room harbors too many memories—I couldn't."

Had Galinda realized that she was contradicting what she had been griping about only minutes earlier? Ah, well it had been best not to tell her.

* * * * *

Elphaba entered her new room slowly, looking around. There was actually only one thing that caught her eye immediately:

There was only one bed.

One bed. _One bed_ and no futon. One bed, no futon, no couch, and no carpet. Shit.

Fiyero was already there, sitting on the only other sit-able furniture; a small armchair. He looked very uncomfortable, much as Elphaba felt she looked like.

He cleared his throat and coughed roughly. "So."

"So," she said, and dropped her suitcase immediately. It clattered to the ground, and silence ensued rather quickly.

A moment later, there was a sharp knock on the door, and they both jumped. The pounding continued, so Elphaba opened it, and Boq came tumbling in.

"You two are sharing _a room_?" he gasped. "_Why_!"

Fiyero looked far too startled to talk, so Elphaba said, "It's simple—because I was forced."

Boq shook his head. "I mean, I thought you guys were going to clear up the whole accidental-marriage-when-stupidly-drunk incident!" he said. "Whatever happened to that?"

"I was refused," she said stiffly. "I . . . we weren't allowed. We . . . have to try to 'work it out' over the next three months. I don't know how Morrible found out—"

Boq cheeks went bright red, and, for a moment, Elphaba and Fiyero stared at him. Then, very slowly, he slid out of the door again and they heard him race down the hall.

"Dammit, the idiot," Elphaba snapped, glaring at Fiyero.

"I didn't do anything!" Fiyero exclaimed, clearly surprised by her sudden hostility.

"Y-you sleep on the floor tonight!" she stuttered, half-shouting, and pointed to the ground. "Or the armchair—"

"Elphaba—" Fiyero started, but she interrupted his interruption.

"But we're _not_ sharing a bed," she said quickly. "I don't _care _if we're 'married' or not. I will not be subjected to—"

Fiyero put a finger to her lips. "I don't want to share a bed," he said slowly. "I'll sleep on the floor."

Elphaba shoved his hand away and looked over to the room's door. Still open, it looked so inviting. . . .

Fiyero broke the awkward silence, saying something Elphaba had desperately wanted to hear, "Elphaba, why don't you go the library?"

She nodded, and hastened herself out of his sight, but not before he could catch the faint darkening of her cheeks.


	4. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

Title: Smooth Move, Romeo - Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

Summary: The whole gang gets drunk. What happens when Elphaba wakes up the next morning and . . . something's . . . different?

Disclaimer: I disclaim _Wicked, Mary Poppins_ and _What Happens in Vegas_! La-di-da-daaa~!

Author's Note: Okay, so I've decided to through in a little _Mary Poppins_ for extra ridiculousness. Hope you enjoy. Please review, because I'm having an obscene amount of fun with this story--as each chapter goes by, I have more fun. D:

Enjoy my idiocy!

-Faba

* * *

I felt amazingly flustered . . . all alone, cooped up in our new room. _Our_. Ew, it sounded so . . . weird. It's just the thought that I was now married to the most annoying woman ever, and that, jeez, if I kissed someone else it would be _cheating_—it was honestly too much for my head. Seriously, if I wanted to still be a good person, would that mean I'd have to go forever without . . . doing it? _It_, preferably the verb. IT. Oz knew whether Elphaba would ever want to engage in the almighty It, even years from now!

Did this mean I was giving up enjoyable occurrences (namely It) for the _rest of my life_?

No, definitely shouldn't think like that. Pain. Glorious pain.

I decided to go sit on the bed, and forgot my troubles almost instantly, reveling in how cushy the mattress was. I wouldn't mind to sleep in it, but, ugh, it wasn't my bed apparently. My bed was the floor—the uncarpeted_ floor_. . . .

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Even though the sound of it is something quite atrocious! If you say it loud enough your wife will not come back-cious!

"SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS!" I bellowed.

* * * * *

Later on that lovely evening, Elphaba came back and found me lying comfortably on my floor. She made her way to the bed, stepping purposely all over the floor, and I said angrily, "Elphaba, don't make me _tell_ you to get off of my floor."

She gave me the ugliest look ever—which was quite a feat, coming from something I couldn't have thought could get uglie—

No. Good person.

"Fiyero, you're acting like a child," Elphaba snapped.

"No, I just have to sleep on the floor—child, me? No way!"

"Maybe we can buy you a futon or something," Elphaba muttered. "But you're honestly not complaining because I'm not sharing the bed—?"

"No!" I gasped. "Don't flatter yourself!"

Elphaba rolled her eyes; a rather customary response to annoyance. "Take the duvet, then. It's summertime, so I'll only need the sheets." She threw it unceremoniously at me, and I caught the duvet from my place on the floor, and flattened it beneath myself. "Goodnight Fiyero," she said loudly.

"'Night, _wife_," I responded spitefully. I rolled over, and sighed loudly.

For a while, everything was quiet. Then, I decided I needed to point something out. "You know," I said, very convinced that she was still awake. "We already . . . you know, so it wouldn't _really matter_ if we shared a bed, would it?"

"Fiyero, once again you express interest in wanting to share a bed with me," murmured Elphaba, sounding half-asleep. "I'm starting to wonder, really. . . ."

"Elphaba. THE. FLOOR. IS. NOT. COMFORTABLE."

"Still," she said awkwardly. I couldn't see her face, but I could guess that she was blushing.

"Come on, Elphaba," I groaned. "I'll sleep the opposite way you are. I'll put my feet by your head, and you can put your feet by mine. We can both be happy—_please_?"

"I guess you're no trouper, Fiyero," she said drowsily. "But I guess you could—until we bring in a couch or something—"

I hastily leaped onto the bed, and shoved the duvet between our bodies, separating us as best as I could. Then I stole an extra pillow, and laid my head on the opposite side of the bed.

Elphaba grunted, and said, once again, "Goodnight, Fiyero."

"Uh-huh," I said, sinking into the cushiony goodness. It was so comfy—utter heaven. Like a marshmallow. Like marshmallow pudding. Totally worth semi-sharing a bed with Elphaba.

I was slipping into sleep quickly. It was amazing how quickly I was falling into sleep with in this bed. Fantastic. I was honestly considering asking Elphaba if we could sleep like this everything night when—

_Boom, boom, boom! _

"The _door_," I said, irritated. It must have been midnight, but Elphaba sat up anyway, her hair in disarray, and went quietly to go get it.

"Who's there at this time of night?" I grumbled, and threw the covers over my head when the light flicked on.

"Elphie!" said a voice, sounding oh-so-familiar. "Elphaba what am I going to do. Oh—_Fiyero_?" I felt something poke my side and I sat up to look directly into a confused blonde's face.

"What in Oz's name?"

"_The floor was uncomfortable_," I said, emphasizing as many words as I could, which turned out to be four, because there were only four words in my sentence. I popped out from beneath the duvet dutifully, and stared at my ex-girlfriend. She didn't hold my eyes long.

Despite her curiously, Galinda didn't push the matter, but sat grumpily on the bed. She didn't even stop to revel at the cushiness—apparently, there were more pressing matters on her mind.

"My new roommate is a _toad_," she said clearly and stridently. "Honestly, I think she croaked at me." Galinda turned to Elphaba (who was in her modest nightdress, while the blonde had on something rather revealing) and her lip started to tremble. "I hate her, Elphie, I really do. She has less fashion sense than you do . . . which is plainly unbelievable!"

Elphaba and I shared a knowing look; Galinda tended to over-judge people and, believable or not, looked for the worst in everyone half the time. Fate dealt her dealing hands with this one, though, seeing as she provided my ex-girlfriend with another roommate she wasn't . . . _happy _with.

"Galinda, I—" Elphaba started.

"Don't start, Elphie," Galinda said, sniffing. "I _know_; you've just shared a look with your new hubby: 'Galinda's gone nutty, hasn't she, dearest?' Don't _treat _me like that, Elphaba Thropp. Don't treat me like you think I'm over-exaggerating. This girl is the_ essence_ of _insane_."

Elphaba nodded quite slowly, obviously (in my eyes) trying to think of something really good to say in a situation such as this one. She even shot me a fleeting look, begging for help, but I truthfully had none to provide.

"Um, Galinda," Elphaba started again, and Galinda let her this time. "You know how when we first met you judged me a little too quickly? Well, frankly, now you're bugging me about another girl that you think is a little odd before you even really know her, just like you did with me. Don't you think that's a little, uh, _ironic_, for lack of a better word?"

Galinda glared evilly at Elphaba for a moment, then got off of the bed in a huff, walked out of the door, and slammed it with as much force as she could muster. Elphaba and I exchanged another look before the green girl cleared her throat. "So."

"We're back to that?" I questioned grumpily.

"Goodnight, Fiyero," she sighed, for the . . . third time that night?

I laid back onto the bed and said, "Elphaba, I assure you I am not enjoying sharing a bed with you."

"That makes two of us," she laughed, climbing back onto her end of the bed.

"What really irritates me," I grumbled next, "Is that I have to assure you that I don't enjoy it."

Elphaba didn't say anything else, and soon later I fell asleep, dreaming happily of marshmallows, as I would remember later on in the morning that would come.


	5. Publicity, O How I Loathe Thee

Title: Smooth Move, Romeo - Publicity, O How I Loathe Thee

Summary: The whole gang gets drunk. What happens when Elphaba wakes up the next morning and . . . something's . . . different?

Disclaimer: Disclamation--God pray that be a word.

Author's Note: Ew, I hope this chapter is satisfactory. The next will be better . . . I just wanted to get this out there, because I wanted all of you to know it's still alive and well. If You Love Someone should be updated soon enough as well. Ooooh well.

Please try to enjoy my disgusting excuse of a story! ;D

* * *

Elphaba awoke when a beam of light flickered over her eyes. It was morning, obvious, so that meant it was time to get up.

Elphaba started to get up off of the bed, but, it seemed that Fiyero had wrapped his arms around her legs during sleep. Elphaba would have laughed if it had been anyone else. But this was her, and this was Fiyero. She had no pity or patience.

"Fiyero!" she said loudly, glaring lividly down at his end of the bed. "I consider this sexual contact!"

Fiyero made an odd snorting sound and Elphaba wrinkled her nose, trying to entangle herself from Fiyero's iron-grip, but it was clear that dream-Fiyero enjoyed cuddling legs. Or something.

"FIYERO!" Elphaba shouted.

Fiyero sat up straight in the bed, no longer holding onto Elphaba's legs. "What?" he asked, staring, confused, at her. "_What_?"

"You were hugging my legs," she snapped. "So I had to wake you. Just be glad I didn't _kick_ you."

Fiyero didn't say anything, but instead blushed deep crimson. "Sorry."

Elphaba maintained the silence by getting up quietly. She gathered her clothing for that morning that she'd already laid out and stomped into the bathroom to get dressed.

When the door clicked closed, Elphaba let herself sigh before she slipped out of her nightdress, one arm at a time. She dropped it onto the floor, the misty grey material somewhat melting against the dull wood.

She then proceeded to undo her braid of long, thick hair and brush it just like she did every morning, rhythmically running the brush through her glossy locks. She could hear Fiyero humming through the door and attempted to brush her hair louder, but soon realized it wasn't exactly possible to do so. She cursed silently.

When she was done brushing her hair, she put it back into its customary braid, and then slipped on her blouse and buttoned it. Then on went her skirt, and she was out of the bathroom.

Fiyero had stopped humming, but his face stared up at her where he was positioned on his back, his head upside down off the bed. "You women—you're forever in the bathroom."

Elphaba didn't answer, but immediately vacated the room, but not before she could hear Fiyero sighing loudly.

She walked quickly down the dorm's hallway, still not quite used to the idea of living in the couples' suite. Maybe she ought to have a word with the Headmistress? Technically, she and Fiyero weren't a couple.

When she was finally outside, it took Elphaba a moment to work out where the library was—living somewhere else had her turned around. After a moment's thought, she made a hard left turn, and continued down the hard pavement.

It was only until a few minutes later that she really noticed the staring. It was more staring than usual, because unlike the normal staring, _this_ staring seemed oddly like jealousy or something.

But that was stupid?

Right?

Soon, she found that her suspicions were quite right. . . .

"Are you really married to Fiyero Tiggular?" a complete stranger asked her later that day.

Elphaba nodded slowly.

"Lucky!" was all she said, and then she was gone.

That's what happened all through that day's classes. Everywhere Elphaba went, she was swarmed with questions, awe, and jealousy concerning Fiyero and her alleged marriage with him. By the end, she was ridiculously fed up, and disgustedly found Galinda and complained to her.

"Elphaba, you can't expect to marry Fiyero and just . . . get away with it," Galinda sighed, rolling her eyes. "It's big, you know; him being a prince, and you being_ yourself_. . . . No offense, though."

"None taken," Elphaba said dryly, and cuffed her playfully around the ear.

Galinda ducked and gave her friend an agonizingly fake glower. "None _should_ be, _Mrs. Fiyero_."

It was very convenient that Fiyero decided to come by then in front of everyone. It was also very annoying that he decided to play it up and put an arm around her shoulders. Elphaba's first instinct was to shove him off as quickly as possible, and instinct prevailed.

"Don't encourage them," Elphaba said softly. "We are not an item, we are not anything—we're not going to turn into Oz's Hottest Couple, Fiyero."

Fiyero frowned. "Why not?"

"Because I do not like you—understood?" she said.

Fiyero shrugged. "Okay. . . ."

"He was enjoying publicity," Galinda said knowingly.

Elphaba sighed and grabbed Galinda's hand, a split-second idea popping into her head. "I shall be staying with Galinda and her new roommate tonight. I figure we need a break from each other—goodbye, Fiyero!" She had been speaking very quickly. When she was done, she tugged the blonde away, leaving a very confused Fiyero behind, and anticipating a quite normal person awaiting her at Galinda's new room.

In reality, she was quite wrong to assume so.


End file.
